


Strangers and Kin

by toli-a (togina)



Category: Justified
Genre: Episode s04e05 "Kin", Learning Disabilities, M/M, Multi, POV Outsider, Season/Series 04
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-30
Updated: 2017-09-30
Packaged: 2019-01-15 09:54:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 911
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12318663
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/togina/pseuds/toli-a
Summary: Long time ago, when Cope’s beard was brown and the trees were brown and not green and Dannell was smaller than Cousin Mary, Uncle Elibangkilled a mountain cat. But there was two mountain cats, one more than the dead one, and the live onescreamscratched Uncle Eli red. “Always watch out for a cat’s mate, boy,” he told Dannell, after the red was gone.





	Strangers and Kin

**Author's Note:**

> dhrachth prompted: "I love outsider pov stuff in general. How about Boyd and Raylan, being Boyd and Raylan, and someone normal being ‘wtf just happened’ about it?" So I read this and thought, “Ava!”, but then thought, “No, Ava does that in canon. Art? Wait, also no. Arlo? No. Johnny? No.” And then for some inexplicable reason thought of Dannell (Daniel, from “Kin” in season 4). So this is horribly inaccurate in many ways (including all animal mentions) and gave me flashbacks to _The Sound and the Fury_ and has no “wtf” in it at all, but here it is.

Nobody never paid Dannell any mind. Not less’n he was in the singing house and singing loud to thank God in the sky. Not ‘til it was time to carry the opossums home and unwrap ‘em.

The strangers weren’t no different. Not after the hurts. In the beginning — in the beginning, like at the singing house, only they was in the trees, but it’s all the same sky — the strangers were like deer, freezing still cold ice and showing Dannell the white round pebble shells of their eyes. Didn’t smell like deer, though. The prickly porcupine one smelled like Cousin Lester, setting in a chair with burnt out candle top between his lips. The one with the hat smelled like Sister Nancy’s glass bottle shelf. Sometimes Dannell could creep in quiet to Sister Nancy’s room, pick up each glass bottle and spill the light water flower smell over his hands until Nancy saw and shouted him away.

The hat smelled, too. Dannell held it in his hand, careful. Cousin Mary said Dannell had to be careful with things. The hat had come to Dannell on one stranger’s head, but it smelled like the other, like the porcupine.

They knew each other, the strangers. Talked too low to hear, once Dannell closed them up, tin banging on tin. Dannell’s shoulders touched his ears: he didn’t like the _bang_ of it, didn’t like loud noises or Nancy shouting for Cope or Cope shouting or the _bang_ fall of the deer after the gun or the _bang_ rock blood quiet when you played in the mines. The strangers didn’t scream, though, not like Dannell sometimes did. They just talked real quiet, like Cope and Aunt Annie once they _bang_ shut the door to their bed every night. Strangers didn’t talk quiet like that. Nobody talked quiet like that to Dannell — that kind of knowing quiet talk was only for beds _bang_ shut behind doors.

Then the deer-stranger with the hat asked for Dannell, said his name. Said he had a picture. Dannell wanted to see, but Cousin Lester didn’t want that. He grabbed the porcupine-stranger instead, and Dannell could have told him you don’t never haul a porcupine by its leg ‘til you’re for certain sure it’s dead dead dead. Dannell kept his shoulders up by his ears. Dannell didn’t like fighting.

The deer-stranger came out and hurt Dannell then. Long time ago, when Cope’s beard was brown and the trees were brown and not green and Dannell was smaller than Cousin Mary, Uncle Eli _bang_ killed a mountain cat. But there was two mountain cats, one more than the dead one, and the live one _scream_ scratched Uncle Eli red. “Always watch out for a cat’s mate, boy,” he told Dannell, after the red was gone.

Dannell hurt like Uncle Eli, but then Cope _bang_ came in and told Dannell to sing, and Aunt Annie said _always listen to Cope, boy_ , but the cat stranger — he weren’t a deer no more, not once he _screech bang_ come out of the tin and stole Dannell’s gun, though his eyes were still white shell pebble round; once he changed to a cat and hurt stole the gun he didn’t pay Dannell no mind — wanted Cousin Mary, and he’d left his picture behind.

Dannell held the picture careful in one hand, brought it to Cousin Mary and brought Cousin Mary to the strangers. Cousin Mary looked hard at the picture — her eyes squeezed small like wood splinters in Dannell’s palms — and told Cope that the cat-stranger was kin. Cope didn’t like that. Cope wanted to _bang_ kill the strangers, and Cousin Mary’d took the cat-stranger away.

She told Cope that he could kill the porcupine, and Dannell knew to bring his shoulders up to his ears because Dannell didn’t like loud noises and you always watch out for a cat’s mate, boy, and the cat-stranger _hiss spat screamed_ quiet ‘til Cope squeezed his teeth _click_ shut tight and promised not to kill the porcupine, too.

The cat-stranger took his hat, but careful, not hurt took like he’d took Dannell’s gun. The porcupine-stranger watched him put it on his head — hair brown like Cope’s beard was back when the trees were brown too — his mouth open and teeth out like a badger when they come to its den.

Cousin Mary and the strangers didn’t pay Dannell no mind, even though he watched them go long step over the hills still breathing and not _bang_ quiet killed by Cope. They walked step bump shoulder bump hip, the strangers, told Cousin Mary something about their daddies and Drew and other words Dannell didn’t hear.

Cousin Mary walked one way going uphill home and the strangers went downhill away, and Dannell walked quick quiet downhill too, listening to the strangers talk night quiet soft.

Then the cat-stranger — kin, Cousin Mary told Cope, can’t kill kin and kin can’t be strangers but strangers are anybody that Dannell doesn’t know — _click_ trapped the porcupine-stranger around a tree, smiling wide as Hank Dog _bark_ drooling for a bone. The porcupine showed his teeth loud, but not _scream_ loud, quiet loud. He waited ‘til Dannell couldn’t see the top of the hat down the hill, then twist step vine wound his hands to his pocket and pulled out a key. “Raylan, you goddamned asshole,” the porcupine-stranger told, but there weren’t nobody left there to tell but Dannell, and he didn’t pay Dannell any mind.


End file.
